


Star Wars

by noblydonedonnanoble



Category: Doctor Who RPF
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-27
Updated: 2012-07-27
Packaged: 2017-11-10 20:59:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 917
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/470633
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/noblydonedonnanoble/pseuds/noblydonedonnanoble
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Some fluff. Because really, we need that.</p><p>Honestly, it's only even shipping them if you squint. For once.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Star Wars

                “Why are we starting with the fourth one?”

                David is in the process of putting the DVD into the player, but at this he pauses, turns and looks at me with the most puzzled expression. “Jesus, Catherine, do you know _nothing_ about these movies?”

                “I’ve only just learned that there’s more than one!”

                He sighs and puts it in, then comes to sit down beside me. “We’re starting with the fourth because that’s where George Lucas started. Nobody actually watches _Star Wars_ starting with the first one.”

                “You’re making me waste twelve hours of my life for something that doesn’t even start in the right place?”

                “Waste twelve hours of your life?” David leans toward me, a bit closer than I probably should be comfortable with. “These are going to be the _best_ twelve hours of your life, and you are going to be _happy_ about it.”

                I grab the remote from his hand and start the film. The sooner this is over, the better.

***

                “Are we really expected to believe that Han Solo can understand that… thing?”

                “Yes.”

***

                “David, I want to run to the loo.”

                “Luke is in the middle of a deep, emotional discussion with Obi Wan and you want to run to the loo?”

                I look at him like that means absolutely nothing to me—which it _almost_ does. I understand him more than I’d really like to. “Yes. Do you mind?”

                He rolls his eyes and pauses it.

***

                “Oi, what’d you pause it for?”

                “She’s his _sister_?”

                David grins. “Yes.”

                “But she kissed him at the end of the last movie.”

                “Oh yes!” David sits up higher and turns his whole body more toward me. “See, that’s actually really interesting. Originally, Luke and Leia were going—“

                I hold up a hand. “Stop. Stop.” After a moment of thought, “Is she with Han by the end?”

                “I’m not at liberty to say.”

                Which means yes. “Good. Luke was too wishy-washy for Leia anyway.”

                Under his breath, David mutters, “That’s what everyone else thought too and that’s—“

                “No David.”

                “But—“

                “No.”

***

                “Was it really necessary to put Leia in that outfit?”

                “Yes. Very necessary. Ow! Don’t hit me.”

                “Was it really necessary to put _Luke_ in _that_ outfit?”

                David actually snorts, he’s laughing so hard. “I never really thought about it, but now that you mention it, you’re right. He does look like a bit of a twat.”

***

                The next time I pause it, he actually jumps up. “Catherine, I swear, I will confiscate the remote. What is it now?”

                “The death star is falling apart around them and Luke is taking the time to—“

                “Be quiet! This is a very moving scene.”

                I don’t feel particularly moved, but I sigh and start it again instead of arguing with him.

***

                “He was pretty adorable as a kid, wasn’t he? Before he turned evil and all. I almost wonder how he got so bad. Except I don’t, because I don’t care.”

                “Be quiet, Catherine.”

***

                “David, I’m hungry.”

                “We’ll order food at the end of this one.”

                “We’ve got over half an hour left!”

                “Eat my sofa if you get hungry enough.”

                Glancing at him from the corner of my eye, I grumble, “Don’t tempt me. I might take you up on that.”

                “No you won’t.”

***

                “What kind of vegetarian doesn’t like tofu, Catherine?”

                “I don’t! It’s all rubbery and weird. Besides which, I don’t like food that only tastes like something because the taste has been engineered into it. Get your meat, I don’t care, just let me order my own food.”

***

                “Why are the storm troopers being nice? I don’t understand.”

                “Shush.”

***

                “Oh, you can’t be serious.”

                “What is it now?” he asks. He’s trying his best to sound exasperated, but at the moment I think he’s actually fairly amused.

                I point to the screen. “She was all grown up in the last one. And now _this_? Bit of an age gap, don’t you think?”

***

                “He just cut his arm off.”

                “Yes.”

                “I think I’ve lost my appetite.”

                “You can’t be serious. Over an arm? That’s a tad dramatic, don’t you think?”

                Even though it was a joke, I put my food down simply to make a point. Not sure what the point is, but at least it’s made.

***

                “I’m tired, David. I don’t want to watch the last one.”

                He frowns. “C’mon Catherine, it’s just one more. You’ve held out this long. You can make it.”

                “Doubtful.”

                But when he gets up and switches the disks, I don’t complain.

***

                We’re not even twenty minutes in when I feel my head falling onto his shoulder.

                Blinking and actually opening my eyes afterward suddenly feels like a great trial.

***

                I wake up around 3 in the morning. The movie is paused; David must have fallen asleep immediately after stopping it, because the remote is still in his hand.

                In our sleep, he’s laid down so that his head is on the arm rest. My head ended up somewhere on the middle of his chest, and I feel the fingers of his free hand in my hair.

                So right now, I could get up and leave. Or I could stay, theoretically. And not move. Theoretically. I could just curl up against David and fall asleep.

                As I drift off to sleep again, I look at the screen and realize that we still have half of another movie left.

                God damn it.

                He’s smiling in his sleep. I wonder if he’s laughing at me in his dreams.


End file.
